535x 


Q  ^gl ,  Inaugiirfll   Di3Cov.r3e,    Lellver'-^d   In 
Q^m^^.        '^^^   Chapel   Of  Ccluri];ia   College, 


T,'on/»"h      "7 


'41 


Rev*   Ii.    I.    .'Scheldt 


.1  -"^ 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


\J' 


INAUGURAL  DISCOUKSE, 

DELIVERED  IN  THE  CHAPEL 

OF 

COLUMBIA  COLLEGE, 

MARCH  7,  1848. 


BY 

REV.  H.  I.  SCPIMIDT,  A.  M., 

GEBHABD   PROFESSOR   OF   TKE    GERMAN   LANGUAGE   AM)  LITERATURE. 


iltlpai  6'  btiXoinot 
jiaprvpts   oo<pdJTaToi. 

Find.  01.  I.  32,  sq.  BOchh. 


PRINTED  BY  ORDER  OF  THE  TRUSTEES. 


NEW-YORK : 

LEAVITT,    TROW    AND    COMPANY, 
191    BROADWAY. 

1848. 


IMUGURAL  DISCOURSE, 


DELIVERED  IN  THi:  CUAI'EL 


OF 


COLUMBIA    COLLEGE, 


MARCH  7.  184S. 


BY 

REV.  11.  I.  SCHMIDT,  A.  M., 

CEBIIARD    PROFESSOR    OF    THE    GERMAN    LANGl'AGE    AND    LITEKATtT.E. 

Ofiipm    f'     tTi'Aoiroi 

Find.  Oi.  1.  2i,  $q.  liuckh. 


PRINTED  BY   ORDER   OF   THE   TRUSTEES. 


NEW-YORK: 

LEAVITT,    TROW    AND    COMPANY, 

19  1    BROADWAY 

1848. 


•it'* 


Leavitt,  Tkow  &;  Co.,  Printers, 
33  Ann-street,  N.  Y. 


ADDKESS. 


In  enterino-  upon  the  station  to  which  I  have  been 


■&> 


appointed  at  this  institution,  established  usage  requires 
me  to  commence  my  career  of  duty  by  pronouncing  an 
address  on  some  subject  connected  with  the  department 
of  literature  in  wiiich  I  am  to  give  instruction.  I  have 
chosen  the  first  subject  that  presented  itself  to  my  mind; 
for  it  occurred  to  me  immediately  that  none  could  be 
more  suitable  for  the  present  occasion,  than  a  compari- 
son, personal  and  literary,  of  the  two  men,  in  whom 
German  poetry  has  attained  its  highest  development; 
who  are  regarded,  in  their  native  land,  as  the  most  illus- 
trious votaries  of  the  German  muse:  I  speak,  of  course, 
of  Schiller  and  Goethe.  In  choosing  this  subject,  1  was 
by  no  means  ignorant  of  its  difficulties  and  j)erplexities ; 
for  I  am  well  aware  that  the  opinions  which  I  shall  utter 
arc  totally  at  variance  with  that  public  opinion,  and  with 
that  almost  unanimous  suffrage  of  German  and  foreign 
critics,  which  have  placed  Goethe  at  the  head  ot  all 
German  poets,  and  describe  him  as  unrivalled  and  unat- 
tainable in  his  glorious  art.  It  may  not  be  irrelevant  to 
state,  that  these  opinions  have  not  been  recently  formed  ; 


41254.1. 


thej  have  been  long  entertained,  being  the  result  of 
increasing  intimacy  with  Goethe's  writings ;  and  they 
were  published  to  the  world,  in  a  literary  magazine,  long 
before  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  same  views 
fearlessly  avowed,  and  triumphantly  sustained,  by  the 
distinguished  critic,  Wolfgang  Menzel,  in  his  brilliant 
work  on  German  literature.  And  I  may  further  obviate 
the  charge  of  singularity  by  stating,  that  in  Germany 
itself  many  wise  and  good  men  have,  from  the  begin- 
ning, loudly  protested  against  the  absurd  claims  set  up 
in  behalf  of  Goethe,  by  his  enthusiastic  and  indiscrimi- 
nating  admirers,  many  of  whom  have  not  scrupled  to 
make  him  an  object  of  idolatrous  worship.* 

Before  we  proceed  to  discuss  the  distinctive  charac- 
teristics, and  to  contrast  the  respective  merits,  of  the 
two  celebrated  men  whom  we  have  named,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  state  the  grounds  on  which  we  shall  judge 
them  :  or,  in  more  general  terms,  to  set  forth  what  we 
require,  what  ought,  at  all  times,  to  be  required,  of  him, 
who  lays  claim  to  the  exalted  title  of  poet.  What,  then, 
is  the  mission,  what  the  office,  of  the  poet?  In  one 
sense  there  cannot  be  a  greater  mission  on  earth,  than 
that  of  a  true  and  Christian  poet;  of  one  who,  thoroughly 
imbued  with  the  love  of  God,  and  of  man,  and  of  nature, 
has  received  the  glorious  gift  of  pouring  forth  his  lofty 
conceptions,  his  fervid  emotions,  in  sweet  and  glowing 
song,  adapted  to  awaken  in  others  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  that  agitate  his  soul.     Not  that  there  could  be 

*  See  at  the  close. 


an  office  intrinsically  as  great  and  holy  as  his,  who 
has  been  duly  called  and  authorized  to  preach  the  word 
of  the  kingdom.  But  the  poet's  office  is  the  greatest  in 
this  sense,  that  none  has  as  wide  a  scope  as  his.  For 
while  he  who  ministers  immediately  in  holy  things  sel- 
dom finds  a  very  extensive  sphere,  and  is  generally  con- 
fined to  a  narrow  one,  the  poet  comes  to  all,  the  lofty 
and  the  mean,  the  wise  and  the  simple,  the  virtuous  and 
the  vile :  he  speaks  to  all  alike,  and  not  of  his  nation 
alone,  but  of  the  whole  great  family  of  man  ;  and  thou- 
sands will  pore  enraptured  over  his  pages,  who  would 
not  hear  the  professed  moralist,  or  the  sober  preacher  of 
righteousness.  Hence  the  force  of  the  poet's  declara- 
tion :  "  I  care  not  who  makes  the  nation's  laws,  provided 
I  may  write  its  songs." 

It  is  absurd  and  ridiculous  to  limit  the  poet  to  the 
fictitious  and  unreal,  as  many,  and  even  poets  them- 
selves, have  done.  Not  one  good  reason  can  be  assigned 
why,  as  a  recent  writer*  expresses  it,  "the  province  of 
poetry  should  be  the  unreal  against  the  real,  the  fictitious 
uninclusive  of  the  true  ;"  and  it  cannot  be  that  those 
who  utter  such  opinions  can  ever  have  devoutly  read  and 
pondered  the  inspired  hymns  of  the  sweet  singer  of  Is- 
rael, or  the  poetic  effusions  of  the  old  covenant  prophets. 
■  Poetry,"  says  the  writer  just  quoted,  "is  universal.  It 
includes  every  subject ;  and  can  no  more  be  restricted 
in  its  range,  than  the  Intellect,  the  Hope,  and  the  Faith 
of  man,  of  which  it  is  the  grandest  exponent,  and  the 

'*'  Charles  Mackay,  in  "  The  People's  Journal." 


mosf  sublime  expression — making  Intellect  more  intellec- 
tual, Hope  more  hopeful,  and  Religion  more  religious.'' 
It  is  the  poet's  office,  not  only  to  depict  the  grand 
and  awful,  the  beautiful  and  agreeable,  or  to  lead  the 
less  gifted  to  their  true  enjoyment ;  but  to  search  into 
the  nature,  and  to  explore  the  hidden  meanings,  of 
things,  of  the  various  affairs,  relations,  and  vicissitudes 
of  human  life  ;  to  pierce  the  deep  recesses  of  the  human 
heart,  and  bring  to  light  its  evil  and  its  good  ;  its  base 
desires,  its  guilty  passions ;  its  purest  aspirations,  and 
its  holiest  hopes,  and  to  give  them  utterance  appropriate 
and  expressive.  No  subject  can  be  too  little  or  too 
mean  for  the  poet ;  none,  if  due  reverence  and  fear 
guide  his  pen,  too  exalted  and  glorious.  But — and  this 
is  a  requirement  to  be  inexorably  insisted  on — he  must 
never  mix  his  colors  so  as  to  produce  incongruities,  such 
as  Horace  describes  in  his  epistle  to  the  Pisos, — never 
place  his  subjects  in  a  false  light.  He  may  exagfgerate 
the  little  and  the  mean,  and  make  vileness  doubly  vile, 
and  paint  sin  with  undiluted  blackness ;  he  may  invest 
all  things  beautiful,  and  noble,  and  good,  with  every  at- 
tractive grace,  and  exhaust  his  fancy  to  cover  them  with 
winning  charms ;  but  he  must  be  unswervingly  faithful 
to  truth,  to  the  real  nature  and  fitness  of  things.  Let 
him  beware  how  he  renders  wisdom,  or  virtue,  or  be- 
nevolence, an  object  of  suspicion,  if  not  of  dislike  and 
contempt :  while  he  seeks  to  inspire  us  with  pity  toward 
the  corrupt  and  guilty,  let  him  never  attempt  to  palliate, 
to  cover  with  deceptive  tinsel,  their  corruption  and  guilt: 


and,  above  all,  let  him  beware  how  he  invests  impurity 
and  vice,  wickedness  and  crime,  with  attractions,  adapt- 
ed to  deceive  and  pervert  the  innocent  and  pure,  to 
allure  and  charm  the  prurient  and  vicious,  and  to  supply 
the  guilty  with  a  cloak  of  falsehood. 

Whatever  the  poet's  genius  may  originate,  whatever 
his  fancy  may  create,  in  the  secret  recesses  of  his  own 
soul,  he  comes  before  the  public  sulyect  to  the  same 
laws  as  other  artists.  If  the  painter  or  the  sculptor 
should  exhibit  to  the  gaze  of  men  lewd  scenes,  and  ob- 
scene groups,  and  then  seek  to  apologize  for  the  inniioral 
character  of  his  works,  by  saying  that  they  are  executed 
with  matchless  skill,  that  they  are  perfect  achievements 
of  art,  we  should  tell  him  that  he  who  asks  us  to  ac- 
cept of  beauty  of  form,  and  elegance  of  attitude,  as  an 
excuse  for  moral  deformity  and  vileness,  insults  the 
common  sense,  and  every  nobler  feeling  of  mankind. 
Man  lives  for  greater,  higher,  better  ends,  than  mere 
amusement  at  the  expense  of  every  other  consideration 
and  interest.  Nay,  the  form  is  truly  valuable  only  as  it 
subserves  these  greater  and  nobler  ends.  And  hence 
the  poet  greatly,  wofully  errs,,  who  imagines  that  his 
genius  may  be  exercised,  his  artistic  skill  displayed,  with 
a  view  simply  to  amuse  and  delight  his  age,  without  re- 
gard to  that  culture  of  the  heart,  which  is  to  help  man 
onward  in  his  pursuit  of  those  great  and  momentous 
purposes  for  which  he  lives.  And  therefore,  while  it 
were  folly  to  deny  that  the  poet  should,  nay  must,  aim 
at  the  highest  excellence  of  artistic  representation,  at 


8 

the  utmost  finish  and  elegance  of  form  or  style,  these 
are  yet  to  be  ranked  as  subordinate  requisites  ;— requi- 
sites, indeed,  but  only  subsidiary  to  the  more  favorable 
accptance  of  what  they  are  designed  to  embody  and 
transmit,  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  which  they  are 
the  vehicles. 

No  beauty  of  form  can  ennoble  vice,  but  goodness 
and  virtue,  although  extraneous  attractions  may  serve  to 
commend  them  more  readily  to  the  favor  of  men,  shine 
by  iheir  own  light,  and  win  the  admiration  and  esteem 
of  the  wise  and  good,  nay,  often  command  the  respect 
of  the  corrupt  and  vicious,  even  though  they  present 
themselves  in  the  homeliest  guise. 

The  poet,  then,  has  no  right  to  plead  the  perfection 
of  artistic  skill  as  a  justification  of  the  debasing  and 
demoralizing  tendency  of  his  productions  :  he  has  no 
right  to  debauch  the  public  mind,  to  corrupt  the  moral 
sense  of  mankind,  and  then  come  forward,  and  attempt 
to  vindicate  his  fiendlike  achievements,  on  the  ground 
that  they  have  been  accomplished  with  all  the  matchless 
ingenuity,  and  skill,  and  power,  that  genius  could  in- 
spire. The  poet's  great  mission  is  to  instruct  mankind  ; 
to  exalt,  to  beautify,  to  ennoble  human  life.  He  must 
unfold  to  men's  minds  the  inward  and  more  mysterious 
life  and  relations  of  nature,  animate  and  inanimate,  in 
the  most  sublime  and  magnificent,  in  the  most  minute 
and  delicate  objects  of  this  glorious  creation.  He  must 
arouse,  and  guide  man's  mind  to  the  perception 
of    the  more   hidden   and    spiritual   meanings    of  this 


his  wonderfully  varied  life  on  earth.  He  must  give 
sweetly  gentle,  or  mightily  gushing  utterance,  to  the 
kindliest  affections  and  sympathies,  or  the  loftiest  aspi- 
rations, the  purest  desires,  the  holiest  hopes  of  the  hu- 
man soul.  He  must  teach  his  fellow-man  to  hear  the 
voice  of  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  as  it 
speaks  to  every  attentive  ear  in  the  language  of  universal 
nature  ;  and  to  trace  the  operations  of  infinite  justice, 
guided  by  unerring  wisdom,  tempered  by  boundless  be- 
nevolence, in  the  dealings  of  Providence  with  individual 
and  social  man.  He  must  aim  to  render  truth  lovely 
and  attractive,  and  to  set  forth  virtue  in  all  her  native 
charms  and  winning  graces  ;  and  to  portray  the  unvar- 
nished and  ungilded  deformity  of  vice,  only  that  it  may 
be  abhorred,  both  in  its  inward  nature,  and  its  outward 
manifestations.  A  rates  in  a  higher  and  better  sense 
than  the  ancients  knew,  he  should  lead  onward  and 
upw^ard  his  race  to  increasing  admiration,  reverence  and 
love  for  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  of  the  universe, 
to  more  devoted  attachment  and  allegiance  to  Him  who 
tabernacled  among  men,  full  of  grace  and  truth.  And 
to  the  prosecution  and  attainment  of  these  great  and 
glorious  ends  he  must  bend  all  the  powers  of  his  genius, 
and  apply  all  the  discoveries  of  science,  and  direct  all 
the  contrivance  and  skill  of  art.  It  matters  little  how 
lavish  he  be  of  the  adornments  of  his  noble  art,  if  only 
they  be  employed  to  render  what  is  beautiful,  sublime, 
and  glorious,  more  appreciable  and  attractive,  more 
lovely  and  delightful  to  man,  or  that  which  is  mean  and 
vile,  an  object  of  deeper  horror  and  disgust. 


10 

We  shall  conclude  this  statement  of  w^'iat  we  deem 
essential  to  poetry,  with  what  Dr.  Johnson  beautifully 
says,  in  his  Rasselas,  concerning  its  instrumentalities 
and  adornments.  "  In  a  poet  no  kind  of  knowledge 
is  to  be  overlooked.  To  a  poet  nothing  can  be  use- 
less. Whatever  is  beautiful,  and  whatever  is  dreadful, 
must  be  familiar  to  his  imagination.  He  must  be  con- 
versant with  all  that  is  awfully  vast  oi*  elegantly  little. 
The  plants  of  the  garden,  the  animals  of  the  wood,  the 
minerals  of  the  earth,  the  meteors  of  the  sky,  must  all 
concur  to  store  his  mind  with  inexhaustible  variety  ;  for 
every  idea  is  useful  for  the  enforcement  or  decoration  of 
religious  truth ;  and  he  who  knows  most  will  have  most 
power  of  diversifying  his  scenes,  and  of  gratifying  his 
readers  with  remote  allusion  and  unexpected  instruc- 
tion." Now,  if  it  be  conceded  that  the  views  which  we 
have  here  advanced,  and  which,  we  cannot  but  believe, 
coincide  with  those  of  the  great  moralist  and  poet  whom 
we  have  just  quoted,  are  correct  and  just,  it  will  not  be 
difficult  to  decide  on  the  respective  claims  of  Schiller 
and  of  Goethe,  to  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of  man- 
kind. 

Thus  much  must  be  acknowledged,  at  the  outset, 
that  in  the  views  just  expressed  we  have,  for  ourselves, 
entirely  renounced  that  stand-point  from  which  the  ma- 
jority of  critics,  and  among  them  Thomas  Carlyle,  who 
have  found  every  thing  to  admire  and  applaud,  and  no- 
thing to  censure  and  condemn,  in  Goethe,  have  viewed 
that  poet.     Those  men,  obviously,  consider  him  solely 


11 

as  an  artist,  and  cannot,  if  they  would,  ascribe  lo  liin) 
any  higher  purpose  than  the  attainment  of  the  utmost 
artistic  excellence.     Carlyle,  indeed,  ventures  to  talk  of 
his  ethics,  and  his  religious  belief;  of  his  moral  and  reli- 
gious character;   but  his  lucubrations  on  this  sulyect  are 
so  replete  with  that  flippant  latitudinarianism,  that  loose- 
robed,  slipshod,  all-justifying  charity,  which  have  found 
such  general  favor  among  the  literary  men  of  our  day,  as 
to  disgust  all  sober-minded  men,  to  whom  morality  and 
religion  are  words  of  deepest  and  holiest  meaning.     For 
ourselves,  we  know  of  neither   morality   nor  religion,. 
other  than  the  sacred  Scriptures  teach  ;  and  what  is  not 
derived  from  and  conformed  to  this  divine  standard,  wc 
most  explicitly  repudiate.     With  the  heathen  poets  of 
classic  antiquity  we  have  here  nothing  to  do;  although. 
when  we  consider  the  light  which  they  had,  the  piety 
and  morality  of  many  of  them  are  immeasurably  superior 
to  those  of  many,  who  flourished  within  the  last  two' 
centuries-   We  are  speaking  of  a  poet,  who  wrote  among, 
and  for,  a  people  professedly  Christian,  and  who  ha?^ 
exerted,  and  continues  to  exert,  a  lx)undless  influence 
not  only  on  the  public  mind  of  Germany,  hut  of  other 
enlightened  nations.     And  our  present  inquiry  is,  what 
is  the  nature  of  this  influence  ?     On  its  religious  aspect 
we  intend  to  be  brief.     We  rfecidedly  take  the  ground 
that  the  poet,  who  either  ercirely  ignores  the  volume  of 
inspiration,  or  treats  its  great  doctrines,  and  its  exalted 
characters  with  disrespect,  and  even  perverts  and  dis- 
torts them,  that  tiiey  may  harmonize  with  his  philoso- 


12 

phic  notions,  and  his  pliant  ethics,  cannot  be  esteemed 
a  Christian  poet,  and  that  his  influence  on  the  religious 
character  of  the  community  is,    as   far  as  it  goes,  a 
mischievous  one.     But,  if  Goethe  explicitly  denied  the 
divine  inspiration  of  the   Scriptures,  viewing  them  as 
the  repeatedly  revised  productions  of  erring  men,  and 
summarily  rejecting,  as  apocryphal,  whatever  in  them  he 
could  not  perfectly  understand  or  approve ;  if  he  repre- 
sented their  fundamental  doctrines  as  sectarian  jargon, 
or  dismissed  them,  authoritatively,  as  absurdities ;  if  he 
repulsed,  even  in  his  old  age,   every  effort  of  faithful 
friendship  to  induce  him  to  give  the  greatest  of  all  sub- 
jects  his  serious  consideration,  with  either  silent  con- 
tempt, or  a  biting  epigram;  if  he  publicly  declared  that 
religious  books  were  productive  of  illiberal  opinions  con- 
cerning human  and  divine  things,  and  only  worried  him; 
and  if,  lastly,  he  substitutes  for  the  great  body  of  divinity 
contained  in  the  sacred  volume,  a  rude  conglomeration 
of  the  transcendental  and  the  practical,  which  he  styles 
the   ethnical  and  the  philosophical  religions,  "  for  the 
former  of  which  the  pictures  have  been  composed  from 
the   Old    Testament,  for  the   latter  from   the   New;" 
if  all  this  is  unquestionably  true  of  Goethe,  in  what 
sense  can  we  regard  him  as  a  Christian  poet  ?     The 
truth,  undoubtedly,  is,  that  Goethe,  like  so  many  learned 
men  of  our  age,  was  a  pantheist;  and  as  it  was  his  deli- 
berately announced  opinion,  that  "  religion,  among  other 
moral  influences,  rules  only  the  surface  of  civil  society," 
so  he,  quite  consistently,  gave  himself  no  farther  concern 


13 

about  its  doctrines  or  its  duties.  For  ourselves,  we 
would  rather  encounter  the  frivolous  drollery  of  Burger, 
and  the  daring  impiety  of  Byron,  than  the;  sardonic 
sneer,  the  haughty  condescension,  and  the  self-compla- 
cent smirk  of  Goethe,  when  he  deals  with  sacred  sub- 
jects. 

On  his  poetic  genius,  in  general,  we  shall  not  dwell 
at  any  length,  as  it  is  our  main  object  to  exhibit  the  in- 
fluence which  his  life  and  writings  are  calculated  to  exert 
on  society.  We  have  not  the  slightest  inclination  to  deny 
that  Goethe  possessed  extraordinary  poetic  talent.  He 
w^as  gifted  with  nearly  every  requisite  to  form  a  great 
poet.  With  the  most  profound,  clear,  and  comprehensive 
perception  of  the  poetical  phases  of  nature  and  of  human 
life,  of  the  material  available  for  poetic  representation, 
inherent  in  whatever  objects,  or  scenes,  or  social  devel- 
opments met  his  observation  ;  with  an  imagination  of 
inexhaustible  wealth,  and  a  fancy  of  boundless  fertility, 
vast  in  its  breadth,  though  by  no  means  in  its  upward 
tendencies  ;  with  an  intuitive  recognition  of  secret  svm- 
pathies,  and  of  concealed  connections,  between  objects 
and  manifestations  seemingly  wholly  dissimilar;  with  a 
calm  judgment,  a  severely  correct  taste,  which  enabled 
him  to  arrange  in  harmonizing  groups  poetic  elements, 
that  to  many  would  appear  discordant  and  antagonistic; 
and  with  a  discrimination,  which  seldom  failed  to  detect 
whatever  was  purely  prosaic  and  intractable  ;  with  a  cau- 
tious coolness,  which  does  not  lose  its  equilibrium  even 
in  stormy  scenes  of  excitement,  he  combines  a  skill  of 


14 

representation,  a  command  of  language,  an  easy  flow  of 
style,  unrivalled  in  its  simple  beauty  and  its  calm  repose, 
a  power  over  all  the  various  forms  of  poetic  representa- 
tion, perhaps  never  excelled.  Viewing  him  merely  as  a 
poet,  it  seems  to  us  that  his  chief  defect  is,  that  he  is  too 
unimpassioned  ;  he  has  no  enthusiasm,  no  fire  ;  he  ap- 
pears every  where  as  the  unconcerned,  shrewd  observer, 
speculating  in  the  poetic  material  of  every  nation  under 
the  sun,  himself  unmoved  by  the  emotions  to  which  he 
gives  utterance,  or  the  stirring  scenes  which  he  por- 
trays;— excepting  always  when  his  subjects  are  sensual, 
licentious,  and  obscene  : — for  in  such  he  seems  to  have 
taken  the  most  intense  delight,  introducing  them  on 
every  convenient  occasion  ;  or  ever  and  anon  making 
occasion  for  them,  to  gratify  the  vile  propensities  of  his 
impure  soul. 

It  is  with  sorrow  that  we  say  such  bitter  things  of  a 
poet,  whose  extraordinary  gifts  might  have  made  him 
tlie  greatest  benefactor  of  his  age.  But,  as  we  have 
already  said,  we  are  not  singular  in  our  opinion  of 
Goethe.  Among  the  numerous  writers,  who  have  fear- 
lessly exposed  the  corrupt  character,  and  the  demora- 
lizing tendency  of  his  writings,  the  most  recent,  and 
perhaps  the  most  discriminating  and  just  in  his  un- 
sparing severity,  is  the  distinguished  German  critic, 
Wolfgang  Menzel  ;  and  to  his  profound,  elaborate,  and 
brilliant  work  on  German  literature,  we  refer  those  who 
would  see  Goethe's  poetic  character  drawn,  in  all  its 
Tariety  of  feature  and  expression,  by  a  master  hand. 


15 

Under  different  circumstances  we  mi^ht  consider  it 
a  dutj  to  show,  in  detail,  that  we  have  not  unadvisedly 
and  unjustly  charged  Goethe  with  an  intense  predilec- 
tion for  the  impure,  the  licentious,  and  obscene,  in 
thought  and  imagination,  in  principle  and  life.  But  our 
hearers  need  not  fear,  that,  while  we  condemn,  we  shall 
shock  their  taste  or  modesty,  by  retailing  what  we  cen- 
sure. We  shall  neither  specify  nor  analyze,  but  merely 
indicate  localities.  Goethe's  lyrics,  epics,  ballads,  and 
other  minor  poems,  are  comparatively  free  from  the 
moral  blemishes,  which  so  often  startle  and  offend  the 
reader  of  his  writings,  though  even  here  they  are  suffi- 
ciently abundant.  It  is  chiefly  in  his  novels,  his  dra- 
matic pieces,  and  even  in  his  travels,  that  the  pruriency 
of  his  imagination,  and  the  utter  corruptness  of  his 
heart,  are  manifested.  Distinguished  as  these  produc- 
tions are  for  artistic  excellence,  and  elegance  of  style, 
they  either  present  frequent  and  gross  offences  against 
common  decency  and  morality,  or  entire  works  set  at 
defiance  every  thing  like  correct  principle,  and  cast  off 
all  respect  for  those  lovely  virtues,  those  sacred  duties, 
whose  strict  observance  is  all-essential  to  human  life,  if 
it  is  to  be,  we  shall  not  say  beautiful  and  pure  and  holy, 
but  barely  human,  and  which  the  Creator  has  constituted 
the  very  foundation,  not  only  of  the  happiness,  but  of 
the  very  existence  of  domestic  and  social  life.  We  have 
been  much  gratified  to  find,  that  on  this  subject  Menzel, 
in  his  profound  criticism  on  Goethe,  has  expressed,  often 
in  almost  our  own  words,  the  same  views  which  we  for- 


16 

merlj  ourselves  made  public.  And,  in  order  to  afford 
our  opinions  the  countenance  of  such  high  German 
authority,  we  shall  now,  in  preference  to  any  minute 
discussion  of  our  own,  quote  a  few  passages  from  the 
work  of  Menzel.  We  shall  merely  say  that  to  us  his 
Faust,  which  is  universally  regarded  as  Goethe's  greatest 
work,  appears  to  be  an  infamous  canonization  of  the 
genius  of  wickedness,  in  the  person  of  Dr.  Faust.  The 
great  and  grave  charge  which  we  have  often  felt  con- 
strained to  urge  against  Goethe,  is  not  only  that  his 
morality  is  baseless,  hollow,  and  spurious  ;  not  only, 
that  corrupt  principle,  audacious  licentiousness,  and  un- 
bridled libertinism  are  rife  in  his  writings,  but,  that  so 
far  from  any  where  expressing  any  reprehension  and 
detestation  of  such  vices,  he  revels  in  their  exhibition 
with  the  most  intense  relish  ;  and  that  he  ever  seeks  to 
throw  around  his  vicious  and  wicked  characters  all  that 
grace,  elegance,  and  fascination,  with  which  poetic 
genius  ought  to  invest  only  what  is  in  itself  beautiful 
and  good.  The  vicious  and  the  vile  are  his  favorite 
heroes.  That  such  a  delineation  of  such  characters 
was  simply  the  result  of  Goethe's  own  character,  all 
who  know  how  disgusting  was  his  own  private  life,  will 
admit ;  and  hence  it  is  distinctly  and  broadly  asserted 
by  Menzel.  A  very  few  citations*  from  that  critic 
must  suffice.  "  Talent,"  says  he,  "  is  universal  by  its 
nature,  and  must  prove  itself  so  by  the  greatest  variety 
of  applications.     There  is  nothing  in  the  world  to  which 

*  We  quote  from  Prof.  C.  C.  Felton's  admirable  translation  of  Merjzel's 
German  Literature. 


17 

talent  cannot  give  a  poetical  coloring.  The  musician 
very  justly  affirmed  that  every  thing  could  be  set  to 
music,  even  a  list  of  names.  A  poet  of  talent  can  per- 
form equal  wonders  with  language.  Hence,  also, 
Goethe  was  so  many-sided.  He  could  make  every  thing, 
even  the  smallest  and  meanest,  delightful  by  the  magic 
of  his  representation. 

"  Here,  however,  we  strike  upon  the  first  great  sin  of 
the  poetry  of  Goethe.  Art  must  be  like  an  enlightened 
religion,  that  makes  only  what  is  really  sublime,  noble, 
and  pure,  what  is  really  godlike,  the  object  of  worship ; 
it  must  not  resemble  a  w^himsical  Fetichism,  which 
turns  the  little,  the  vulgar,  and  the  obscene,  every  thing, 
in  short,  into  a  vehicle  of  adoration,  into  an  idol.  The 
form  must  be  proportioned,  and  congenial  to  the  subject. 
Comic  poetry  alone  is  permitted,  and  only  for  thes :ik  e 
of  comic  effect,  to  travesty  what  is  sublime,  and  to  dis- 
tinguish a  vulgar  subject  with  a  grotesque  elevation. 
On  the  other  hand,  every  seriously  intended  sentimental 
embellishment  of  vulgarity,  by  means  of  a  pathetic  dress, 
is  wholly  inadmissible.  But  Goethe  was  the  first  to  de-' 
lineate  feeble  and  infamous  characters  as  interesting, 
amiable,  and  even  sublime,  and  to  excite  a  sympathy  for 
the  conceited  Werther,  the  mean-spirited  worthless  Cla- 
vigo,  the  effeminate  and  coquettish  Wilhelm  Meister, 
the  sentimental  Don  Juan  Faust,  as  if  these  were 
really  the  ideals  of  a  manly  soul.  Since  this  example 
was  set,  German  poetry  has  been  overrun  with  weak- 
lings and  scoundrels  who  pass  for  heroes. 

2 


"  To  this  highly  unpoetical  difference  between  the 
beautifying  form  and  the  ugly  substance  belongs  also  the 
manner,  which  had  its  origin  with  Goethe,  of  represent- 
ing common,  vulgar,  and  little  matters,  or  things  that 
are  absolutely  dry,  prosaic,  and  tedious,  by  means  of  an 
affected  air  of  importance,  as  full  of  meaning,  and  cap- 
tivating to  the  senses.  I  will  here  only  allude  to  the 
'  Toilet  of  the  Man  of  Forty  Years.'  Goethe  was  fond 
of  mystifying  his  readers  by  such  means,  and  of  putting 
them,  as  it  were,  to  ihe  proof  how  much  they  could 
bear  without  grumbling. 

"  Beautiful  nature  is  the  only  object,  the  imitation  of 
which  by  the  serious  poet  pleases  us,  and  deformed  na- 
ture ought  to  be  exclusively  the  subject  of  comic  and 
humorous  poetry ;  but  Goethe  staked  his  whole  reputa- 
tion upon  making  deformed  nature,  with  all  seriousness, 
pass  for  beautiful,  by  the  aid  of  his  powers  of  represen- 
tation ;  and  we  need  only  read  the  work  written  by 
Falk,  on  Goethe's  life,  or  the  Tame  Xenia  and  aphorisms 
of  Goethe,  and  some  passages  of  his  '  Faust,'  to  be  con- 
vinced what  diabolical  fun  his  readers  made  him,  when 
they  allowed  themselves  to  be  so  easily  duped,  and  were 
rapt  into  wondering  admiration  and  reverence,  if  Goethe 
mysteriously  thrust  out  his  tongue,  twisted  his  features 
into  a  grimace  at  the  highly  respectable  assembly,  and, 
like  Mephistophiles,  made  an  indecent  gesture. 

"  Nothing  characterizes  him  better  than  the  poem 
with  which  the  Musen  Almanach  of  1833  was  opened. 
He  there  insults  his  senseless  worshippers  by  a  strain  of 


19 

coarseness  and  indecency  which  is  too  vile  to  be  repeated 
here.  To  this  length  of  impudence  Goethe  ventured  to 
go  with  the  German  people." — Vol.  III.  pp.  30-32. 

In  another  place  the  same  writer  sajs  :  "  Even  Plato 
reprobates,  with  severe  earnestness,  the  desecration  of 
poetry  by  laying  open  unnatural  lusts.  He  reproaches 
Hesiod  and  Homer  for  relating  so  many  obscene  and 
disgusting  things  of  the  gods.  He  says  with  perfect 
truth,  '  Even  if  such  things  exist  in  nature,  they  ought 
not  to  be  related  in  the  hearing  of  young  people,  but 
should  be  silently  passed  over,  more  than  any  thing  else 
whatever.  If  a  necessity  should  ever  occur  to  speak  of 
them,  these  things  must  be  heard  not  otherwise  than  as 
mysteries,  by  as  few  as  possible,  who  should  have 
brought  beforehand  for  sacrifice,  not  a  miserable  pig, 
but  some  great  and  costly  offering,  to  the  end  that  as 
few  as  possible  may  have  an  opportunity  of  hearing 
about  such  matters.'  It  is  true  that  the  mysterious  af- 
finity of  choice,  the  principle  of  conjugal  infidelity, — it 
is  true  that  licentious  enjoyments,  such  as  are  described 
in  '  Stella,' — really  occur  in  nature,  but  they  are  excres- 
cences ;  and  we  should  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  deceived 
about  nature,  or  rather  about  the  nature  of  these  things, 
by  a  captivating  poetical  embellishment,  by  confound- 
ing them  with  the  most  sacred  feelings  of  pure  love  ; 
for,  as  Plato  proceeds  to  say,  '  No  one  is  willing  to  ad- 
mit a  lie  into  the  noblest  part  of  himself,  and  with  re- 
spect to  the  highest  things.' 

"  We  have  yet  to  speak  of  the  cruelty  which  accom- 


20 

panics  refined  pleasures.  Goethe  has  a  predilection  for 
painting  human  weaknesses  and  prejudices,  and  feasts 
upon  the  sufferings  that  have  their  origin  there.  It  is  so 
with  '  Werther,'  '  Clavigo,'  '  Tasso,'  '  The  Natural 
Daughter,' '  Elective  Affinities,'  and  others.  The  cruel 
pleasure  consists  in  this,  that  the  poet  amuses  himself 
with  crimes  and  sufferings,  and  makes  not  the  least 
atonement  for  them  whatever.  This  cruelty  oftentimes 
seems  aimless,  often  merely  involuntary,  as  the  conse- 
quence of  the  indifference  with  which  the  poet  contem- 
plated the  world.  The  calmness  and  clearness  with 
which  Goethe  draws  his  pictures,  look  frequently  like 
perfect  indifference,  and  not  like  the  godlike  repose  which 
springs  from  the  fullness  of  the  idea.  It  has  the  effect, 
therefore,  of  the  lifeless  laws  of  nature,  and  not  of  the  in- 
ward satisfaction  of  the  soul.  Hence  Goethe  offers  so  many 
discords  which  have  no  solution." — Vol.  III.  pp.  43-45. 
Many  other  striking  passages  might  be  cited  from 
Menzel,  but  we  are  already  trespassing  on  the  patience 
of  our  hearers,  and  we  must  bring  this  part  of  our  dis- 
cussion to  a  close.  We  shall  abstain  from  all  remarks 
on  his  own  life,  which,  as  we  have  good  reason  to  assert, 
was  positively  infamous.  Nor  can  we  dwell  on  other 
objectionable  features  of  his  character,  either  negatively 
or  positively  displayed  in  his  writings  :  on  his  utter  heart- 
lessness,  his  profound  egotism,  his  superlative  vanity,  his 
supreme  and  contemptible  selfishness,  his  self-exaltation 
and  self-worship,  his  aristocratic  hauteur  and  insolence, 
his  languid  effeminacy.     To  one  most  bitter  reproach  he 


21 

lies  open, — an  utter  want  of  patriotism,  whicli  led  him 
to  maintain  a  cold,  stiff,  silent  reserve,  at  a  time  when 
his  country  was  trodden  into  the  dust  by  the  foreign 
invader  and  oppressor,  when  the  whole  great  heart  of 
Germany  was  swelling  and  bursting  with  wounded 
pride,  nationality,  resentment,  and  ardent  aspirations  for 
the  recovery  of  freedom  ;  when  the  whole  land  resound- 
ed with  the  voice  of  the  noble  and  the  brave,  with  the 
tramp  and  thunder  of  armies,  and  the  indignant  strains 
of  patriotic  poets.  Amid  the  convulsions  that  shook 
Germany  from  the  Rhine  to  tlie  Vistula,  the  voice  of 
her  first  poet  was  not  heard.  It  was  heard  only  in  fee- 
ble and  drivelling  commonplaces,  when  the  storm  was 
overpast.* 

Had  Goethe  realized  the  exalted  and  momentous 
nature  of  the  poet's  office  and  vocation,  how  great  and 
glorious  might  he  shine  on  the  literary  firmament,  re- 
volving among  orbs  of  like  magnitude  and  sj)lendor, 
around  the  sun  of  truth  and  wisdom ;  but  now,  how 
dark  and  sinister  is  his  aspect,  how  lawless  his  orbit, 
how  malign  his  influence  ! 

We  gladly  turn  from  this  contemplation,  to  gaze 
awhile  at  another  luminary  of  a  far  purer  and  brighter 
light. 

Schiller  was  not  made,  as  Goethe  in  a  great  mea- 
sure was,  by  outward  circumstances  and  influences,  but 
his  genius  developed  itself,  and  struggled  upward  to 
the  commanding  position  which  it  attained,  in  spile  of? 

*  See  Note  at  the  end. 


22 

circumstances  the  most  depressing,  of  influences  the 
most  adverse.  He  was  not,  as  Goethe  often  was,  an 
imitator,  but  he  chose  his  own  ground  ;  evolved,  by  the 
independent  exertion  of  the  gifts  and  strength  that  were 
given  him,  his  peculiar  poetic  characteristics,  his  own  ar- 
tistic principles  and  excellences ;  and  his  very  first  and 
youthful  appearance  before  the  public  was  a  stern, 
though  rash  and  ill-judged,  antagonism  to  existing  ten- 
dencies. Looking  at  the  whole  man,  as  he  presents 
himself  in  his  life  and  writings,  he  was  one  of  the 
noblest  and  brightest  appearances  in  the  literary  world. 
The,sins  of  Goethe  can  in  no  wise  be  laid  at  his  door. 
Modest,  unassuming,  and  retiring,  he  arrogated  no  lofty 
and  insolent  airs,  paraded  no  egotistical  self-worship, 
nor  ever  usurped  an  overbearing  dictatorship  over  the 
republic  of  letters.  Animated  by  an  ardent  love  of 
truth,  and  of  virtue,  and  of  his  race,  he  was  ever  an 
earnest  man,  pursuing,  with  steadfast  purpose,  the  noble 
and  the  true.  He  was  never  guilty  of  levity  or  frivolity  ; 
for  this  he  had  too  much  self-respect,  too  serious  a  re- 
gard for  the  sacredness  of  virtue,  too  profound  a  convic- 
tion of  the  grave  significance  of  human  life  and  human 
relations.  His  own  life  had  for  him  too  deep  a  mean- 
ing, that  he  should  ever  have  wasted  his  time  and 
strength  on  capricious  trifling,  or  in  impertinent  frivolity. 
With  intense  ardor,  and  indefatigable  industry  he  studied 
the  great  principles  of  his  noble  art ;  and  strove,  with 
sleepless  activity,  to  attain  the  highest  excellence  in 
their   application,    in    the    production    of    imperishable 


23 

works.  It  is  true  that,  considered  as  an  artist,  Schiller 
was  inferior  to  Goethe.  He  had  not  the  same  command 
of  material,  nor  the  same  ready  skill  in  arrangement  and 
combination.  His  prose  has  not  the  easy  flow,  the  magic 
melody  of  Goethe's ;  it  is  throughout  more  elaborate 
and  ambitious,  perhaps  too  uniformly  majestic  and 
stately,  but,  at  the  same  time,  decidedly  more  correct, 
and,  in  general,  admirably  adapted  to  the  important 
subjects  of  which  he  treats,  full  of  life,  and  vigor,  and 
idiomatic  nerve,  abounding  in  great  thoughts,  striking 
comparisons,  and  happy  metaphors.  But  he  ever  had 
a  purpose  beyond  the  perfection  of  art,  greater  than  the 
attainment  of  mere  literary  fame.  He  sought  to  instruct, 
to  ennoble,  and  to  elevate  mankind.  His  aim  was,  to 
make  the  beautiful,  whether  in  nature,  or  in  humanity, 
more  attractive  ;  to  awaken  admiration  of  the  powerful 
and  sublime  ;  to  set  forth  the  influence  of  the  mightiest 
affections  and  passions  that  rule  the  heart  of  man  ;  to 
portray  earnest  men  and  women,  characters  full  of  en- 
ergy, whether  of  vice  and  wickedness,  of  bold  and  ruth- 
less ambition,  of  dark  and  remorseless  tyranny,  of  gloomy 
and  bitter  despair ;  or  of  disinterested  friendship,  of 
true  and  self-devoting  love,  of  single-minded  philan- 
thropy, of  pure  and  fervent  patriotism,  of  unshrinking 
loyalty  to  human  rights,  and  liberty,  and  happiness. 
He  aims  to  move  dee])ly  and  strongly,  but  always  in 
the  right  direction.  He  is  always  serious,  and  desires 
that  you  should  be  so.  The  love  of  the  beautiful,  and 
loftv.  and  virtuous,   the   abhorrence  of  meanness,  and 


24 

frivolity,  and  vice,  which  fill  his  soul,  he  aims  to  excite 
and  cherish  in  his  reader.  He  never  sinks  into  the 
apologist  of  vulgarity,  and  baseness,  and  crime.  He 
never  seduces  us  into  admiration  of  vicious  characters, 
never  prostitutes  his  poetic  powers  to  invest  them  with 
spurious  attractions,  never  condescends  to  sophistry  to 
palliate  their  unhallowed  deeds ;  he  never  leaves  us  any 
choice  but  to  admire  and  love  his  purer,  nobler,  and  bet- 
ter creations.  The  brilliant  and  fascinating  princess 
Eboli  never  wins  our  sympathy  or  esteem  ;  the  gloomy 
but  majestic  Wallenstein,  however  much  we  may  admire 
his  grandeur,  never  gains  our  applause ;  the  bigoted  and 
malignant  Philip  commands  our  utmost  detestation ; 
Franz  von  Moor  excites  our  deepest  abhorrence,  and  his 
unhappy  brother  Karl,  though  we  commiserate  his  mis- 
fortunes, never  tempts  us  to  approve  his  crimes ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  the  generous  and  high-minded  Marquis 
Posa,  that  beau-ideal  of  a  patriot  and  philanthropist ; 
the  sturdy  and  stalwart  Tell ;  the  heroic  Max  Piccolo- 
mini,  whose  manly  rectitude  would  not  yield  to  the 
strongest  temptation  ;  the  artless,  confiding,  but  strong- 
minded  Thekla,  whose  inflexible  regard  for  the  right 
and  good,  leads  her  to  sacrifice  to  duty  even  her  pure 
and  ardent  love  ;  the  maid  of  Orleans,  strong  and  sub- 
lime in  her  heroic  enthusiasm,  are  all  objects  that  invite 
our  liveliest  admiration,  our  warmest  sympathy,  our  sin- 
cerest  respect  ^nd  esteem.  Whether  great  in  misfor- 
tune, or  great  in  power  and  prosperity,  they  are  truthful 
embodiments  of  a  genuine  and  exalted  humanity,  and 


25 

as  such  they  claim  from  us   the  exercise  of  every  truly- 
human  sympathy  and  affection. 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  it  is  not  our  object  to 
defend  either  of  these  celebrated  men  ;  but  that  we  sim- 
ply intend  to  compare  their  respective  literary  merits, 
and  to  attempt  a  comparative  estimate  of  their  moral 
character,  but  especially  of  that  influence  which  their 
writings  are  respectively  calculated  to  exert  on  the  reli- 
gious opinions,  and  the  morals  of  the  community.  And, 
therefore,  as  we  have  spoken  of  Goethe's  religious  opin- 
ions and  character,  we  must  not  omit  this  point  in  our 
estimate  of  Schiller.  Unlike  his  celebrated  contempo- 
rary in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  he  gave  to  this  all-im- 
portant subject  his  most  serious  attention.  His  childhood 
was  passed  in  a  pious  home,  and  the  influence  of  his 
early  education  never  faded  from  his  heart,  however 
deeply  his  mind  was  afterwards  imbued  with  error. 
Unfortunately,  he  early  became  involved  in  the  mazes 
of  a  skeptical  and  false  philosophy,  and  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  his  philosophic  speculations  he  struggled  man- 
fully and  anxiously  for  truthful,  solid,  and  firm  convic- 
tions; but  he  never  reached  a  satisfactory  result.  Schiller 
lost  his  faith  and  his  hope,  and  doubtless  remained  a 
skeptic  to  the  end  of  his  days.  As  this  philosophy  exalts 
human  reason  into  a  judge  of  revelation,  so  Schiller,  in 
treating  of  Scriptural  subjects,  boldly  assumed  that  the 
sacred  writings  are  uninspired,  the  work  ot  erring  mor- 
tals alone.  We  do  not  recollect  that  he  says  so,  but  he 
simply  takes  it  for  granted,  and  deals  with  Scripture 


26 

accordingly.  He  never  shrugs  his  shoulders,  or  laughs 
in  his  sleeve,  or  sneers,  and  then  again  prates,  in  the 
language  of  mysticism,  about  religious  experiences,  as 
Goethe  often  does,  but  betakes  himself,  viMth  all  sober 
seriousness,  to  the  setting  forth  of  his  own  views,  on 
the  establishment  and  elucidation  of  which  he  bestows 
a  good  deal  of  elaborate  reasoning,  and  no  less  imagina- 
tive surmise,  and  of  wild  conjecture.  Schiller  has  writ- 
ten but  two  treatises  on  subjects,  with  reference  to  which 
we  have  no  sources  of  information  except  the  Mosaic 
records :  and  of  these  papers  Carlyle  speaks  in  a  lan- 
guage of  approval  and  admiration,  which  is  to  us  quite 
unaccountable,  when  we  consider  what  he  has  elsewhere 
written  of  men  whose  soundness  in  doctrine,  and  lofty 
consistency  in  practice,  have  never  been  open  to  ques- 
tion. Schiller  loved  the  truth  and  sought  it,  and  he 
wrote  what,  doubdess,  he  conceived  to  be  true ;  but  it 
would  be  difficult  to  point  out  any  where  a  more  deplora- 
ble exhibition  of  the  result  at  which  a  mind  will  arrive, 
which  inclines  to  philosophic  speculation  and  utterly  re- 
jects the  sure  foundation  of  faith,  and  substitutes  its  own 
supposed  discoveries  for  the  teachings  of  infinite  intelli- 
gence and  wisdom.  Besides  the  dissertations  here  spo- 
ken of,  we  recollect  but  two  other  pieces,  and  these  are 
poems,  in  which  Schiller  very  strongly  displays  the  same 
spirit,  but  in  an  entirely  different  manner,  with  respect 
to  the  truths  of  revealed  religion.  His  mind  was  deeply, 
violently  agitated  by  that  greatest  of  all  inquiries  that 
can  employ  the  human  intellect,  but  we  do  not  believe 


I 


27 

that,  amid  the  rolling  billows  of  skepticism,  he  ever 
reached  the  rock  of  faith,  or  found  safe  moorings  for  the 
anchor  of  his  hope.  As  regards  the  influence  upon  others 
of  the  productions  which  we  have  had  in  view,  we  doubt 
whether  it  ever  has  been,  or  ever  will  be,  extensive  or 
deep. 

If  we  consider,  in  the  next  place,  the  poetic  genius 
of  Schiller  in  its  entire  manifestation,  wc  cannot  but 
admit  that  it  was  not  as  comprehensive  or  universal  as 
Goethe's ;  but  in  the  sphere  in  which  he  lived  and 
wrought,  it  far  surpassed,  in  piercing  vision,  in  depth 
and  fervor  of  feeling,  in  powder  of  utterance,  that  of  his 
supercilious  friend.  He  did  not  diffuse  his  energies  over 
so  large  a  surface  as  Goethe,  but  he  dug  vastly  deeper, 
and  built  incomparably  higher.  Strength  and  splendor 
are  the  characteristics  of  his  imagination.  He  penetrated 
into  the  hidden  depths  of  the  human  heart,  and  rent 
away  the  veil  that  often  hides  human  character ;  and  he 
brought  forth  what  is  pure  and  good  in  men,  that  he 
might  commend  it  to  the  esteem,  and  love,  and  imitation 
of  the  world,  and  dragged  their  corruptions  and  vices  to 
the  light,  that  he  might  loudly  proclaim  his  abhorrence, 
and  speak  to  the  conscience  his  stern  rebuke,  and  his 
earnest  warning.  And  here  wc  see  the  effect  ot  his 
early  training,  which  inspired  him  with  a  profound  rev- 
erence and  love  of  Christian  virtue :  for,  although  he 
stood  on  false  grounds  of  belief,  his  morality  is  obviously 
based  on  principles  of  Christian  ethics.  So  steadfast 
was  his  purpose  to  exert  a  salutary  influence  on  society, 


28 

that  when  the  public  misapprehended  the  design  of  his 
novel,  "  The  Ghostseer,"  conceiving  it  intended  only  to 
excite  surprise  and  terror,  he  threw  it  aside  and  never 
resumed  it,  so  that  we  have  it  in  an  unfinished  state. 

Although  we  admit  that  Schiller's  genius  had  not  the 
universality  of  Goethe's,  it  would  be  doing  him  great 
injustice  if  we  were  to  represent  his  mental  character  as, 
in  any  sense,  inferior,  or  the  empire  of  his  mind  as  at  all 
contracted.  He  was  a  man  of  great  and  varied  learn- 
ing ;  his  mind  was  of  the  highest  order,  and  of  rich  and 
many-sided  culture.  The  difference  between  him  and 
Goethe  is  striking.  While  the  latter  seems  at  home 
every  where,  and  handling,  with  plastic  skill,  any  and 
every  subject  that  presents  itself,  and  often,  indeed, 
throwing  away  his  skill  on  subjects  purely  indifferent 
and  trifling,  or  even  contemptible,  Schiller  is  distin- 
guished for  prompt  sagacity  to  discern,  and  consum- 
mate ability  to  embody  the  beautiful  and  the  good  ;  for 
a  vastness  of  power  to  grapple  with  all  things  great,  and 
noble,  and  strong,  and  to  subdue  them  into  willing  sub- 
serviency to  the  exalted  purposes  of  his  poetic  genius. 
We  may  liken  Goethe  to  the  botanist,  who  roves  over 
the  whole  face  of  the  earth,  and  gathers  into  his  garden 
trees  and  plants  of  every  sort,  the  beautiful  and  the 
uncomely,  the  fruitful  and  the  useless,  the  sweet  and 
the  nauseous,  the  salutary  and  the  poisonous,  arranging 
them,  with  admirable  art,  in  beautiful  groups,  and  in  strik- 
ingly contrastive  juxtaposition,  but  leaving  the  thought- 
less and  unheeding  wanderer  in  its  mazes,  unguarded 


29 

and  unwarned  to  shun  the  hurtful  odor  of  these  plants, 
to  abstain  from  the  death-bearing  poison  of  those  trees ; 
while  Schiller  resembles  the  horticulturist,  wlio  no  less 
assiduously  searches  out  the  floral  riches  of  the  globe, 
but  selects  only  those  productions  of  nature  which  are 
distinguished  for  their  lofty  growth,  their  poKMit  energy, 
their  attractive  beauty,  or  their  inviting  sweetness, 
transferring  them  to  his  magnificent  park,  his  garden 
disposed  in  gleaming  terraces  and  fresh  with  gushing 
fountains,  and  his  elegant  greenhouse,  arranging  all  in 
beauteous  order  and  harmony,  and  labelling  every  nox- 
ious tree,  and  shrub,  and  plant,  to  warn  the  unwary  to 
avoid  their  touch,  to  flee  their  noxious  odors  and  their 
pestiferous  fruits.  Schiller's  poetry  is  the  worthy  expo- 
nent of  deep  and  intense  feeling ;  of  lofty  principle  and 
energetic  purpose  ;  of  strong  volition  and  of  vigorous 
action  ;  of  patient  endurance  and  of  calm  submission  ; 
of  mighty  motive  and  of  earnest  life  whether  good  or 
evil,  and  sometimes  of  dark  and  dismal  despair ;  in  a 
word,  of  human  nature  in  its  most  exalted  and  l)eautiful, 
or  in  its  strongest  and  sternest  manifestations.  But  his 
aim  always  is  to  instruct,  and  warn,  and  benefit  man- 
kind, to  beautify  and  ennoble  human  life.  And  the 
character  of  his  genius  is  profoundness,  strength,  bold- 
ness, a  perfectly  balanced  harmony  offeree,  and  withal, 
a  full  and  gushing  ardor  of  youth  that  never  cools  or 
flags.  And  thus,  while  Goethe  has  been  the  ''  lion  of 
coteries,"  and  the  idol  of  a  learned  sect,  SchiihM-  has  been 
the  favorite  of  the  people,  of  true  men  and  women  from 


30 

the  throne  to  the  cottage ;  for  all  found  in  his  writings 
the  forcible  utterance  of  the  feelings  and  aspirations  that 
dwell  in  every  hunian  heart. 

Schiller  gloried  in  ideal  contemplations,  and  in  the 
creation  of  great  and  noble  ideal  characters.  Goethe 
was  no  more  capable  of  conceiving  and  bringing  out 
such  characters  as  Schiller's  lofty  and  glorious  Posa,  or 
his  ardent  and  heroic  maid  of  Orleans,  or  his  chivalrous 
and  high-souled  Max-Piccolomini,  or  his  pure,  generous, 
self-forgetting  Thekla,  than  he  was  of  achieving  the 
Pallas  Parthenos  of  Phidias,  or  one  of  Raphael's  Ma- 
donnas. Some  have  found  fault  with  Schiller's  poetry, 
because,  as  they  say,  there  is  in  it  too  much  philosophy, 
and  too  much  morality.  These  complaints  are  fre- 
quently raised  by  the  impure  admirers  of  Goethe's  mer- 
etricious muse;  they  deprecate  Schiller's  mighty  influence 
on  the  literature  and  character  of  his  nation  ;  they 
would  have  unrestrained  license  to  revel  in  impure 
indulgences,  under  the  potent  patronage  of  Goethe, 
whom,  as  Menzel  dedares,  Schlegel  even  presumed  to 
call  a  igod ;  and  "iiinc  illse  lachrymse."  What  has 
thus  been  made  a  matter  of  reproach,  we  gratefully 
accept  as  the  result  of  Schiller's  clear  and  strong  appre- 
hension of  the  greatness  and  sacredness  of  the  poet's 
province.  He  has  never  pandered  to  vicious  appetite  ; 
he  has  ever  done  homage  to  purity  and  virtue.  What 
gives  him  his  strongest  claim  to  the  admiration  and 
gratitude  of  mankind  is  his  earnest  spirit ;  his  earnest 
warfare  against  tyranny,  wrong-doing,  wickedness,  and 


31 

corruption ;  his  earnest  vindication  and  assertion  of 
human  rights  and  liberty  ;  his  earnest  advocacy  of  right, 
of  true  nobleness,  and  of  rigid  virtue.  We  have  said 
that  his  love  of  truth  was  intense,  his  pursuit  of  it 
ardent  and  unceasing.  In  his  uninterruptedly  advancing 
self-culture,  he  strove  to  realize  a  lofty  and  glorious 
ideal.  And  it  was  his  intense  application  to  ihis  ^rcat 
object,  his  sleepless  efforts  in  the  expansion,  and  culture, 
and  enrichment  of  his  powerful  mind,  that  so  speedily 
wore  out  his  feeble  frame,  and  consi2;ned  him  to  an  early 
grave,  when  he  was  yet  far  short  of  the  exalted  aim 
which  he  had  proposed  to  himself.  And  with  reference 
to  this  trait  of  his  character  and  life,  Goethe  has  beauti- 
fully said : 

"  Er  wendete  die  BIfithe  hochsten  Strebens, 
Das  Leben  selbst,  an  diese.-.  Bild  des  Lebens.'' 

And  we  need  only  add,  that,  in  accordance  with  his 
exalted  principles  of  thought  and  action,  his  life,  his 
personal  character,  was  all  that  is  pure,  and  noble,  and 
estimable;  distinguished  for  dignified  simplicity,  amiable 
gentleness,  modest  strength,  unswerving  integrity,  and 
diffusive  benevolence.  Though  we  lament  the  errors  of 
Schiller  the  philosopher,  and  deplore  that  he  never  pen- 
etrated into  the  shrine  of  holiest  truth,  who  can  but 
admire  Schiller  the  man,  the  poet  of  honor  and  of  virtue, 
the  faithful  and  powerful  asserter  of  the  rights,  the 
duties,  the  interests  of  mankind  ? 

Gilfillan   says,  in  a  recent    production  :    "  Another 
security  for  the  future  triumphs  of  Poetry  is  to  be  found 


32 

in  the  spread  of  the  Earnest  Spirit.  That  such  a  spirit 
is  coming  over  the  age,  men  feel  as  by  a  general  and 
irresistible  intuition.  There  are,  besides,  many  distinct 
evidences,  and  in  nothing  more  so  than  in  the  present 
state  of  Poetry.  Its  clouds,  long  so  light  and  gay,  are 
rapidly  charging  with  thunder,  and  from  that  black 
orchestra,  when  completely  filled,  what  tones  of  power 
and  music  may  be  expected!"  We  believe  that  this  is 
true,  and  we  hail  the  omen  with  joyful  expectation.  But 
that,  at  a  time  when  feeble  drivelling,  or  shameless  fri- 
volity, or  unblushing  libertinism  were  rife  in  European 
literature,  Schiller  took  the  lead  in  this  purifying  and 
reforming  movement,  and  first  sounded  the  trumpet  to 
summon  the  poets  of  Christendom  to  aid  him  in  this 
magnificent  concert,  and  that  not  from  accident,  or  cal- 
culation, and  expediency,  but  because  his  strong  and 
noble  spirit  disdained  all  other  work  or  companionship, 
this  is  the  greatest  glory  of  his  imperishable  name. 


NOTES. 


Page  2.  For  various  reasons  the  writer  deems  it  necessary  to 
state,  that  he  has  never  seen  any  unfavorable  critique  on  Goethe's 
works,  except  Menzel's :  but  that  there  has  been  in  Germany,  much 
and  severe  censure  of  his  character,  and  the  tendency  of  his  writings, 
appears  abundantly  from  the  bitter  complaints  and  the  indignant 
rejoinders  of  his  worshippers. 

P.  21.  To  the  fact  that  Goethe  lies  open  to  this  reproach,  the 
writer's  attention  was,  many  years  ago,  directed  by  a  friend  and  dis- 
tinguished German  scholar.  Having  afterwards  found  the  accusa- 
tion broadly  made  and  satisfactorily  sustained,  by  Menzel,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  strengthen  his  conviction  of  its  justness,  and  sought,  in  vain, 
to  discover  in  any  of  Goethe's  writings,  a  spark  of  true  philanthropy,  or 
genuine  patriotism.  But  to  this  charge,  the  accomplished  American 
translator  of  Menzel's  German  Literature  replies,  in  his  preface,  as 
follows :  "  The  example  he  set  of  devotion  to  all  the  interests  of 
civilization, — of  an  industry  that  never  tired, — of  a  wutchfulness  that 
never  slumbered, — in  the  regions  of  art,  and  poetry,  and  science, — 
ought  to  be  received  as  some  compensation  for  the  indifference  he  is 
accused  of  having  shown  towards  what  are  called  the  great  political 
interests  of  the  world ;  for  it  may  well  be  a  question  to  the  reflecting 
man,  whether  he  cannot  minister  more  successfully  to  the  happiness 
of  the  race  by  recalling  their  thoughts  to  the  humanizing  influence  of 
letters  and  art,  than  by  plunging  headlong  into  every  political  contro- 
versy which  agitates  his  age."  This,  and  more  to  the  same  effect, 
is  doubtless,  on  the  whole,  true.    We  would,  however,  venture  respect- 


A 12541 


34 

fully  to  say  in  reply,  that,  while  the  poet  is  assuredly  not  to  emulate 
Sir  Matthew  Meddle,  in  perpetually  interfering  in  affairs  that  do  not 
concern  him,  we  can  see  no  reason  why  he  should,  on  the  other  hand, 
be  a  Rip  Van  Winkle,  or  even  a  Fontenelle,  unconscious  of  aught 
passing  around  him,  equally  indifferent  whether  the  world  be  going 
backward  or  forward,  in  prosperous  repose,  or  distracted  by  tumults, 
or  groaning  under  oppression.  And  though  it  be,  and  is  admitted, 
that  in  the  ordinary  course  of  affairs  the  poet  should  not  be  found 
mingling  and  engaging  in  the  conflicts  and  the  turmoil  of  the  political 
world,  yet  circumstances  certainly  sometimes  arise,  in  which  none 
but  drowsy  drones,  or  mere  plodding  book-wcrms,  or  selfish  syco- 
phants, can  remain  silent  and  inactive ;  and  we  do  think  that  the  con- 
dition, the  sufferings  of  Germany,  arising  from  the  wars  of  Napoleon, 
were  so  extraordinary,  so  highly  calculated  to  rouse  every  manly  and 
patriotic  spirit,  that  we  cannot  conceive  how  any  man,  not  destitute 
of  every  noble  feeling,  of  every  generous  sympathy,  could  refrain 
from  the  utterance  of  intense  indignation, — from  the  manifestation  of 
the  most  devoted  attachment  to  the  interests  of  his  bleeding  country. 
But,  from  a  selfish  voluptuary  like  Goethe  this  was  not  to  be 
expected.  The  same  dispensation  which  remits  to  the  poet  the  debt 
of  patriotism,  nay  excludes  him  from  all  interest  and  participation 
in  his  country's  affairs,  would,  of  course,  embrace  all  men  devoted  to 
letters,  or  the  pursuit  of  science.  And  then  it  should  have  been  said 
to  many,  who,  in  past  days,  exerted  a  most  salutary  influence  on  pub- 
lic affairs  :  "  You  have  gone  beyond  your  appropriate  sphere, — you 
must  confine  yourselves  to  the  seclusion  and  the  occupations  of  your 
study."  But,  not  to  notice  more  recent  cases,  was  Franklin  less  a 
philosopher — were  Davies,  and  Witherspoon,  and  Dwight,  less  rever- 
end and  useful  divines,  because  they  manifested  a  deep  and  active 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  this  nation,  and  the  success  of  our  great 

revolution  ? 

"  Rectius  vives,  Licini,  neque  altum 

Semper  urguendo,  neque,  Jum  procellaa 

Cautus  horrescis,  nimium  premendo 

Litus  iniquum." 

HoR.  Cann.  x.  lib.  ii. 


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